Vambraces of Regeneration

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Description

This light mage armour most often has orichalcum decoration, and fastenings of weltsilver. The material is usually finished and reinforced with ambergelt. It offers a magician a way to recover quickly from crippling wounds. The forearm-guards of this suit of mage armour are most often marked with runes of healing or protection such as Rhyv or Feresh.

The Navarr call this mage armour the mantle of verbena after the fast-growing plant (believed to be a distant relative of the True Vervain). The fendwellers of Bregasland by contrast call them frogbracers and mark them with stylised depictions of newts and salamanders, creatures sometimes believed to possess miraculous abilities to regrow limbs. In Wintermark the combination of orichalcum and ambergelt used to craft this mage armour is often called trollsweave and gives rise to the common name of the trollsweave harness.

Rules

• Form: Mage Armour.
• Effect: Once per day you may spend ten seconds of appropriate roleplaying to repair one of your limbs that has been ruined by the cleave or impale call.
• Materials: Crafting vambraces of regeneration requires seven ingots of orichalcum, three ingots of weltsilver and three measures of ambergelt. It takes one month to make one of these items.

Hear me, brave children, you who will lead the Empire to greater glories, listen as I tell you of Larcwide, Son of Elfryd the Changeling, Larcwide hero of Wintermark, he who tamed the trolls to 'tend his words!

Brave, the Steinr Larcwide was, lost in the fog and the forest, surrounded all by the dark in the green, surrounded all by the snows and the smells of night, of snow-lillies and crocus and brug, venturing to find the dog he'd lost, that loyal Hunter, hound of his who chased the rabbit hence.

An old farm he found there, watched over by a whitehaired troll, who's wrinkled skin was old and pallid grey, whose back was crooked and curled like the moon is curved, like the bow when drawn or the old oak tree is gnarled and bowed.

"It is late," cried Larcwide, brave as the boar, "and here I am lost and the lights of your farm are bright and warm. I offer you my arm in friendship that I might call on Hospitality to beseech one drink of you, one plate of food, a hearthbed for the night - for this night and these snows are cold and even your people have some laws of host and guest."

The bent old troll nodded and spat and the spittle sizzled in the snow. "Such is," said he" such is and such was and such will always be. But you must ask my father this, for this farm is his and host he is."

Larcwide, brave as the boar, looked on, at this old troll "Your father is yet alive? Old he must be, old as the trees around us."

"Older," said the Troll "and yet he lives. He sits inside in his chair."

So Larcwide, brave as the boar, strode on and in the farm beyond an old chair sat, crooked and wooden and in the chair an old troll sat, crooked and broken, such that his body, shriveled like the winter leaves in frost, lacked fingers and feet.

"Old Troll!" Cried Larcwide, brave as the boar, "Your son sends me thus! For it is late and here I am lost and the lights of your farm are bright and warm. I offer you my arm in friendship that I might call on Hospitality to beseech one drink of you, one plate of food, a hearthbed for the night - for this night and these snows are cold and even your people have some laws of host and guest."

The old troll's old father nodded and spat in to the hearth and the spittle quenched the flames a little. "Such is," said the old troll's father" such is and such was and such will always be. But you must ask my father this, for this hearth is his and host he is."

Larcwide, brave as the boar, looked on, at this, old troll's older father "Your father, too, is yet alive? Old he must be, old as the hills around us."

"Older," said the Troll "and yet he lives. He lives thus in that leather bag hung above the hearth. But know you this and take you this - this rod of iron stout and strong - for hard he always grips the hands of guests to see their strength and that may hurt you horribly."

So Larcwide, brave as the boar, strode to the hearth and high on the hearth a leather bag was nailed, cracked and torn and in the bag an old troll sat, older still, and cracked and torn, more broken even than his crooked kin, such that his body, broken like the burnt wood in the fire lacked all but head and chest and arm.

"Oldest of Trolls!" Cried Larcwide, brave as the boar, "Your son and son's son sends me thus! For it is late and here I am lost and the lights of your fire are bright and warm. I offer you my arm in friendship that I might call on Hospitality to beseech one drink of you, one plate of food, a hearthbed for the night - for this night and these snows are cold and even your people have some laws of host and guest."

The old troll's father's father nodded and spat in to the flames and the spittle burned and melted the very flagstones that fire was built on. "Such is," croaked the old troll's father" such is and such was and such will always be. I'll take your arm of friendship and I'll give to you one drink, one plate of food, a hearthbed for the night, for such is law of host and guest, even amongst out people. But tell me this, foul manling, where are you from?"

Larcwide, brave as the boar, named his village and his people, named his ancestors and kin and when his tale was done, the oldest of the trolls gripped hard upon the iron rod and thinking it the hand of Larcwide, gasped out aloud. "I see now they are strong still where your kinsfolk hail from. I once toiled to build their church, but when they brought hence the big bell, I moved here."

And thus it was that Larcwide, brave as the boar, bravest of his kinsmen, settled for that night in the home of Trolls, thinking that even they have some laws of host and guest. And thus it was that night, when the hearthfire burned to nothing, the oldest of the Trolls clambered with his one sharp-taloned arm out of his leather bag, his son hobbled from his crooked chair and his son's son crept from his place by the door and between them they made to eat Larcwide all.

But through the window, sudden and swift sprang Hunter, that loyal hound, and though Larcwide, tired as the ice bear, dozed by the fire, he heard in dreaming, the hue and cry of Hunter, that hound of his, of Loyal virtue and devotion and in dreaming sprang to his feet and woke -

- to find himself afoul of Trollish treachery, the three old ones acircling around him, slathering and slick with the fires of hunger and the fires of the hearth burned out.

"Foul and foolish manling!" cried the Trolls. "A bed by the fire we promised you, a bed we gave, and now we we make good the meal we promised also!" And with a leap and cry, the three were on him, all ready to split him thrice and eat of him all.

But Larcwide, brave as the boar, and Hunter too, lay about him with the rod of iron, breaking heads and brows alike and even three old and wicked trolls could not stand against his might. The oldest of the trolls he left both inside the farm and out, so that the one be-talonned arm could only crawl towards it's head; and the old trolls broken son he left in one room and another, ripped asunder, so that the two halves could only slither towards each other, and the youngest of the old trolls he turned in-side out, leaving the meat and bones to shiver in the cold, while the old troll's skin he carried home with them to weave as boots and boiled bracers.

And arrive he did, into his hall - Larcwide, braver than the Boar and with a tale to his name, who told to me the saga that I tell you now - of Larcwide, Trollslayer, who even now wears boots and bracers of the skinned Troll who somewhere screams his name aloud in agony and revenge; and who's skin can knit the flesh of man or troll alike..."